New Town, New Ghosts
by NeverGoesToSleep
Summary: Gwen is a ghost whisperer. She talks to ghosts, hangs out with them, heck, even befriends them sometimes. But she DOESN'T fall in love with them...until now. Rated T for slight violence.
1. Finding The Amulet

***Hey! So, this is a story I've been thinking about for a while. It's loosely based on the show "Ghost Whisperer," so if you haven't seen it, I'd suggest it, even though now it's cancelled. -.- I'd also love to give a big shout out to my friend, WhyCantIJustBePerfect, for letting me run this idea by her, as well as putting up with me on a daily basis. That's a challenge in and of itself ;) Anyways, this chapter's a bit short, but I promise later ones will be longer once we get further into the story. Enjoy!***

"Whoa!" I screamed, tumbling out of the passenger seat of the moving van, textbooks in hand.

"See you at three, sweetie!" My called from the passenger seat. I rolled my eyes as I watched the U-Haul drive away. I had literally just gotten into town, not even to my new house yet, and my mom pushes me out of the moving van straight to school. I got a better hod on my pre-ordered textbooks and began to push through the sea of people crowding around the front of the school. A few stared at me. I'm not sure why, but the pale skin, teal lipstick, short bob of teal and black hair, and overall Goth demeanor may have something to do with it. Internally, I was rejoicing at the fact that they weren't staring because they knew the real me. The fact is, the real me has the ability to speak to the dead.

Sometimes I counted the ability as a gift. With it came incredible powers such as superhuman strength and speed, which is undoubtedly useful for not failing Gym. The curse of it was that I had to keep it a secret from everybody. My mom wasn't even aware of what I could do. I don't know, I guess it was okay come to think of it. It kept people away from me, it kept me from making friends, it kept me from getting a boyfriend, it kept me...from getting hurt.

Upon entering the much less crowded first floor. I searched for the office to get registered and everything. As I walking, I passed a dimly lit hallway that was actually crowded with the school outcasts, a.k.a. the stoners, burnouts, and all-around troublemakers. Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy the occasional prank on a teacher, but those guys were _not_ my crowd. Unlike them, I actually have plans for my future, which by that time hopefully won't include keeping me chatting it up with dead guys on a daily basis a secret from everyone. As I walked right by the hallway, I felt a pair of bright green, bloodshot following me. I didn't look until I was sure they wouldn't notice me looking back at them. The boy had a shoulder-length, greasy crop of blackish-green hair. Something about his gaze bugged me, tugged at the little superhuman in my mind, begging for me to stop and talk to them. I ignored my head and instead followed my heartbeat to the office.

The brightly lit room greeted me almost as warmly as the lady at the front desk had.

"Hello, dear. Is there a problem? Why don't you take a seat?" She asked, pulling the glasses around her neck back onto her face. I wordlessly sat shyly in a chair by the desk and began to twiddle my thumbs.

"Um, I'm kind of new in town, so..." I started, hoping I wouldn't have to further explain what my purpose for going there was.

"Oh, you need a schedule!" She exclaimed, patting at the back of her cropped brown hair. She typed into her computer for not even a minute before looking back at me. "Name?"

"Gwen-" I was cut off by her hand motioning for me to stop. she clicked the mouse a couple more times before pointing to a printer on the other side of her desk. A paper emerged from the topside of it, riddled with words and a graph-like design to list my schedule. I picked it up off the printer and scurried off to get to my next class before it was too late.

My day after that hadn't gotten interesting again until I was sitting outside, chomping away on the bag of chips Mom had thrown at me to serve as my "lunch" for the day as I reflected on my first four periods of the day. Homeroom was alright. Our teacher, a short balding man who had a knack for brightly colored suits, had seated me at the front table right next to Courtney Cross, who's apparently Student Council president, head of the volleyball team, as well as the top-scorer on her practice SAT. Did I neglect to mention she's a witch with a capital "B"? Because she is. I suppose being best friends with Heather Wong, Queen Bee of the school (as well as my new lab partner) should have told me that, but luckily Courtney isn't as vile and evil as Heather...I think. As I picked a few black specks off of a yellow potato chip, something caught my eye in the armpit of the school.

I don't know what possessed me to walk over there, but taking my abilities into consideration, it really could have been anything. Anyways, it was the outside hangout for the teenage druggies and delinquents who've been to juvie more times than they've been to their Calculus class. Upon reaching my destination, I was glad to see that none of the little devils were outside at the moment, so no explaining my twenty to a group of half-dead binge drinkers. The thing that caught my eye was just inside of the shade the buildings in between the alley had to offer.

The display appeared to be a shrine for a fallen brother or something, killed on the streets I'm guessing. It was different than the shrines of the deceased you'd see on the news, with all of the teddy bears and flowers and hand written notes full of emotion. No, this was much smaller and photo-less. It didn't make the site any less unsettling to me. I brushed off my growing uneasiness and examined each and every item placed there. There was a lighter with the cap open, emitting a tiny flame for their dead friend. In fact, there were a few there, each one making the nervousness I already had growing inside of me swell up even more. A few other souvenir-like items scattered the cracked concrete. A pocket knife, a red retro sneaker, and a few empty and rusty bottles of spray paint were the most prominent things about the shrine. The single most prominent thing about the setup, though, was hanging on the bolt of a low-hanging pipe. It was a rather long chain with a medium-sized silver amulet hanging on it. I lifted the metal amulet in my hands to get a better look. Almost immediately upon feeling the cold metal on my skin, the ghost whisperer in me kicked in.

I had to have it. I had no reason, nor any explanation for the desire, I just _had to have it_. Without even so much as thinking, I pulled the chain off of the pipe and bolted. I knew I would be back, though. I had to be. That place, that person...I needed to know. As I was fleeing, the chain clutched in a death grip within my pale hands, I could've sworn I saw a pair of emerald green eyes watching me through the shadows.

***So? I know the beginning of the chapter starts off a little slow/boring, but I wanted to give Gwen a sort of backstory, and was relatively happy with how this turned out. I kind of want to know how you guys are liking it, so if you could review...PLEASE?***


	2. First Encounter

***Hey! So here's the next update for this story :) Um, a couple people were asking if Trent would be in this story because of the last line of the chapter, well, I'll tell you right now that considering he would have no role in this story, he isn't. :) The thing about the eyes was the guy with the green hair that was staring at her earlier and creeping her out, remember? Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter! :D***

Upon getting home from school, I walked right into my new home, stormed into my new bedroom, and slammed the door behind me. I didn't want to be disturbed as I studied the stolen amulet. I pulled it out of my black messenger and sat with it on my sheet-less bed to try and further examine it. The symbol itself appeared to be a sort of skull. It wasn't like a hard-core death metal skull, though, it was actually very cartoony. If I couldn't tell how beautifully and deeply engraved the black lines were on the hunk of silver, I'd say someone hand-drew it on there with a Sharpie. I pulled the item close to my face to get a close look at the two shiny green diamonds that served as the skull's eyes. Ten seconds was all I needed to figure out the diamonds were real. Girl's intuition I suppose. The green was probably reflective or something, because whenever I would hold, touch, or even so much as come in contact with the piece of jewelry, the two tiny diamonds would glow, light up like two little lights on a Christmas tree.

"Trick of the light." I muttered, rubbing the trinket with my index finger and thumb. I realized something strange, then. There was an inscription on the back of it! I turned the talisman around, not even caring that the long, silver chain smacked me in the face and probably ripped some little hairs out of my head in the process. On the back was a word, or a name possibly, written in the most perfect, but still simple cursive writing I've ever seen. Written on the back was one thing: _Duncan_. "Duncan." I breathed. I felt compelled to wear the charm, to keep it with me at all times, to keep it safe. From what I didn't know, but with these types of things, I usually gave in to the urge, much like this instance. I looked at myself in my newly installed vanity mirror as I plopped the necklace over my head. I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself unsurely. The glow in the skull's eyes shimmered more than I had seen it do in the last four hours, and I suddenly felt a head rush. I had to lean on the counter of my vanity, but the flickering status of my consciousness was distracting me. I could see things. Lights and shadows. I could hear things. Shouting and loud cracking noises. I could smell things. Raw sewage and the downright sickening smell of freshly shed blood. It was becoming too much, the rank smells and deafening noises invading my mind, that's when...I snapped out of it.

I was thrusted back in reality; the noises reverting back to just silence accompanying my ragged, panicked breathing. My sight was back to just staring back at myself in the mirror, and the only smell I was inhaling was the Chinese food Mom had ordered for us waiting downstairs. My breathed regained its confidence, and I steadied myself once more, before looking at my disheveled appearance in the mirror. The silence was making me feel better, but jumpier all at the same time.

"You called?" A voice from behind me asked. I wasn't prepared to hear any voices at the time being, and I freaked out like the dumb girl that always goes towards the twisting doorknob in horror flicks and ends up getting murdered.

"Ah!" I screamed loudly, whirling around on the spot. A teenage boy about my age, and with a style rather similar to my own was sitting on the pane of my open window right next to the black painted vanity. He was casually perched there, leaning his neck on one side of the window, his bright red Converse pressed up against the other. A ghost, no doubt. "Who are you?" I demanded, then added, "And how did you know I can see you?" I asked in a quieter tone of voice. He laughed heartily at my question.

"Well, you called, that sort of gave me the idea." He responded. His voice sent shivers throughout my body; it was so odd. I regained my composure, intent on not letting this kid know he had gotten under my skin already.

"Who are you?" I blurted out. Idiot! Why did I ask that? He responded anyways, which secretly made my heart leap.

"You should, know, you _are_ the one that called me, Sweetheart." He answered. I thought about it for a moment, staring at the ground.

"Duncan?" I asked.

"You've got it, Swe-" I covered his mouth with my palm. A common misconception about spirits is that they're holographic all the time, when really they only are when walking through stuff. They can still pick things up and sit down and be touched by human beings, just with the ability of walking through anything they wanted.

"_Don't_ call me Sweetheart." I ordered. He didn't even so much as blink at me as I removed my hand from his face.

"Anyway, _Darling_, which one of my buddies did you jack that from?" He asked, pointing to the chain around my neck. I clamped a hand around the chain part of the piece and stammered for an answer. I should've known it was his the second he showed up here. The skull is an exact match to his black T-Shirt design. I looked sheepishly at the floor as I answered his question.

"I...didn't. I just-Well, see, I sort if...took it." I replied. He didn't seem to understand, so I further explained. "They had left it with a bunch of your other stuff in the alley outside of the school?" I phrased as a question, waiting for a nod which I only slightly received.

"Should've known they'd do that. We did the same thing for Dagger and Riff-Raff when they got offed." He said all in one, exasperated sigh. Now I was my turn to look puzzled. "We're delinquents. We run around the streets at night, and it's dangerous. A lot of times we'd get offed by gangs or dealers. It happens." He explained without little effort, apprehension, or strain. I wish I could do that, but I'm not as good at venting my feelings as most people are especially considering the one big secret I could never vent. The one thing that was letting me communicate with Duncan.

"Sorry." I said with genuine sympathy.

"Like I said, it happens." Was his response. Another question popped into my mind then, and there was no stopping my mouth from relaying it. "How did you...you know, end up like this?" I asked nervously. He opened his mouth to answer, but for some reason my mother's voice came out. Well, technically, my mom yelled to me from downstairs.

"Sweetie! Chinese is here!" She called.

"Coming!" I said while a faulty and nervous laugh escaped from my lips. I then looked back at the former troublemaker. "Uh, want this back?" I asked, holding up the chain around my neck.

"Keep it." He whispered seductively. Then, he winked and disappeared within the blink of an eye. And so ends my first encounter with Duncan, the boy of my dreams if he wasn't such a nightmare.

***Alright, so the last line basically means that Gwen concluded that if Duncan didn't have the whole "obnoxious dead-guy" thing going on, she would totally be head over heels for him...(like she isn't already ;) Nah, haha, please review! :D***


	3. Questions

***Hey! Next chapter! :D Thanks so much for reviewing, and be sure to check out my other stories as well. So, this chapter has a bit of Deather (DuncanxHeather) in it, but it's more comedic than anything. I don't really support the pairing, but they are my favorite non-romantic duo to watch onscreen. I find them absolutely hilarious together xD Anyways, I hope you enjoy!***

Walking into school next day was all a blur. My memories of the day only really began when I walked into homeroom and took my seat next to Courtney. Instead of the hard, frustrated look that was usually on her face, her expression was softened. Embarrassed, even.

"Uh, hey..." She said nervously as I sat down at our table.

"Hi." I said flatly. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone after staying up all night thinking about what had happened the day before. I then felt her tug at the chain around my neck. I looked over to her and saw that she had the skull amulet resting daintily in her tan palm.

"Where'd you get this? Did you find it?" She asked me eagerly. I raised an eyebrow at her as I took a look at the piece in her hand as well.

"Why?" I asked her with my eyebrow still cautiously raised.

"N-nothing, It looks like Duncan's, that's all." She stammered. What would the student body president know about the scum at the bottom of her swimming pool of success? Suddenly, I felt the table rattle enough to gain my attention. Courtney, however, didn't stir, nor did anyone else in the room. That could only mean I was the only one to notice, and that of course meant...Duncan. I turned to face the front of the room, and sure enough, Duncan was there, smirking like he just did something brilliant.

"She was into me." Duncan said with a proud smirk. I wanted to respond, but I didn't want the rest of my homeroom to think I'm a psychopath for talking to no one. I grabbed one of my notebooks and a pen and quickly scribbled my question on it.

"_Was she your girlfriend?_" I held it up for him to see.

"Nah." He responded, dragging out the word, "She's way too stuck-up for me. I don't deal with that crud." He explained. "Maybe if she was more like you." Duncan said with a flirtatious wink. My heart did, in fact, start beating out of my chest, but he didn't need to know that, so I just rolled my eyes at him. He just winked at me once more before disappearing on the spot.

The rest of homeroom went along swimmingly. I was able to tune out the teacher that was babbling on about this, that, and the other thing, as well as keep an eye on Courtney out of the corner of my eye. She was diligently writing something that the short, stocky man said eery five minutes. I also caught her occasionally peeking at my necklace with a look in her eyes that I didn't know a girl of her popularity and stature even knew: hurt. Genuine heartache and pain. I may have even felt bad for her if she wasn't as horrible as people say she is. The bell rang and I grabbed my things in a rush to get the heck out of there. As I was walking down the hall, I passed the disgusting hallway that all the stoners hang out in again. I saw the same boy with the green hair and green eyes staring at me. His eyes were still speaking to me, telling me to stop and speak with him. But no. I'm smarter than that. What if it's just so that they can rob me and then stuff me in a locker or something. I held my head up high and walked with confidence to the science room.

The regular before-class antics were going on like they usually would in a high school. There are the boys throwing those little skateboards around that I hate with a passion, the 'it couple' Geoff and Bridgette sucking face, and the jocks DJ and Tyler discussing last night's football game. I sat down at my shared table right next to Heather, who was filing away at her perfectly manicured nails. I wasn't even sitting down for ten seconds when Heather spoke to me.

"So you knew Duncan, huh?" She asked, then blew at her nails.

"Uh, _you_ knew him?" I asked skeptically. Again, why would a popular girl like Heather Wong know the unpopular criminal Duncan?

"I dated him." She said simply, putting her nail file back in her pocket. I gaped at her.

"You dated your best friend's crush?" I asked in amazement. She didn't falter, and instead looked at her nails once more. Duncan then appeared at the same spot in front of my table as he did earlier today.

"We did _not_ date!" He denied, "We made out every once and a while and messed around a few times at parties." He clarified before disappearing again. Almost as if on cue, Heather answered the question I asked her.

"Survival of the fittest, Gwennie." Then she leaned in to whisper to me. "Besides, he was a really good kisser." She whispered. I really didn't know what to say to that, so I just dropped the subject for the time being and focused on class until it was over. After that was lunch, and in a desperate effort to avoid confirming or denying the rumors about the crawling lunch meat, I retreated to the library.

Other than the occasional nerd and the doting librarian, the entire book-shelved room was empty. I escaped to the back of the room and just began skimming aimlessly through book titles to find something that caught my interest. I pulled a random book out and opened it to the first page only to be surprised by yet another ghost. This ghost, though was an all-out nerd. He was a redhead with a scrawny upper body and a pair of dorky glasses.

"Fear me, mortal! For am the undead ninja!" He said, trying to do some elaborate kung-fu pose. He somehow ended up smacking himself in the face. I rolled my eyes at the idiotic spectre and shut the book. As I slid the book back into it's spot on the shelf, I was approached in the empty isle by two brunette boys. Nerds too by the looks of it.

"So," began the darker brunette in a flat, deep voice, "You knew the criminal, too, I see." He said with an amused smile on his face, something I don't see him doing very often.

"You knew him too?" I asked. Man, the guy really got around.

"For some reason our afternoon swirlies aren't as meaningful without him." He said sarcastically.

"What are you talking about?" The lighter brunette finally chimed in, "Things are _great _without that guy!" He exclaimed.

"You know, you shouldn't talk ill of the dead." I advised him. A look of regret immediately formed in his eyes and he began to stammer at me.

"S-s-sorry about that. I can tell that's your thing, your smart and all, I feel that." He said, trying to be flirty. I instinctively pushed his chest, causing him to tumble to the ground. His friend and I laughed at him as he groaned in pain on the carpet.

"Nice, Cody." The boy next to me got out between laughs.

"And you are..." I asked him, chuckling the entire time.

"Noah." He said, finally calming down after the laugh attack.

"I'm Gwen." I introduced myself, now also chilling out.

"Studying, too, huh?" Cody asked, now off of the ground. "We're tutors, you know. And if you just give us your phone number..." He trailed off, grinning at me suggestively while holding out a little notebook and a pen. I wrote my number down on it, much to Cody's satisfaction. He wasn't as happy, though, when I ripped the page out and handed it to the other teen.

"I could probably use the extra help." I said optimistically. It was true with me being so unfocused since moving here. Cody was staring at me with a huge smile and practically drooling. "From _Noah_." I cleared up. Suddenly, I saw Geoff and Tyler at the end of the isle of books.

"Hey, dudes! Time for your afternoon swirlies!" Geoff called to them. Both of them immediately looked horrified and turned to run.

"Got to run!" Noah yelled as they both disappeared around the corner.

"Literally!" I heard Cody scream. I sighed at the duo's weakness and put Noah's contact info in my phone. After that, I went back to skimming books until my cell phone rang. This number, though, was unknown. I picked it up anyways.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey, Sweetheart." The person on the other line greeted casually.

"Duncan? You have a cell phone?" I asked.

"Turns out the undead get great rates." he replied, which undoubtedly meant he probably stole this phone from a student or something. I laughed silently at his corny joke and began to walk to the dimly lit back of the library. As I entered the very back isle of the bookshelf, I gasped and dropped my cell phone, for I was standing face to face with a set of emerald green and bloodshot eyes.

***Another cliffhanger! I'm evil! :P So, did you like it? Even though this story has nothing to do with the actual show's plot, I'm still trying to keep everyone in character, and I hope I'm doing a good job. Also, Harold's part in this story is going to sort of be like a Box Ghost thing (Danny Phantom) :D Please review!***


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